


Discovery

by redbuttsarebestbutts (lovely_bones_137)



Series: Consequences [3]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Discipline, Panic Attacks, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-06-24 00:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15618780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovely_bones_137/pseuds/redbuttsarebestbutts
Summary: Looking back, Jake realized that it was futile from the very beginning. No matter how secretive Terry promised he would be about the matter, you just couldn’t hide things from a precinct of detectives. But why did it have to be her?





	1. Chapter 1

“Welp, I guess I’m done with this,” Jake decided, and he tossed Jimmy Brogan’s novel into the trash bin beneath his desk. Who could have guessed that his childhood hero would turn out to be such a homophobic ass?

Amy shook her head at him. “Not good enough.”

A few minutes later, Jake was huddled up with Amy, Boyle, Rosa, Hitchcock, and Scully outside of the office.

Jake counted down from three. On “one,” the book- which was yards away from them in the parking lot- exploded. Pages fluttered around in the air, and an utmost sense of satisfaction overwhelmed them all.

“Welcome to the party, pal!” Jake quoted, grinning.

“God, you  _ love  _ that movie,” Amy sighed.

“It’d Die Hard,” Jake informed her, his smile unfaltering. Amy rolled her eyes.

After a few seconds of watching his handiwork float the ground, Jake heard footsteps.

“What’s going on out here?” Terry asked.

“Just destroying the last few traces of the biggest hairbag in Brooklyn,” Jake informed him, feeling rather pleased with himself.

“I can’t argue with that,” Terry conceded. As much of a stickler for the rules as he was, Terry clearly couldn’t bring himself to disapprove of obliterating Jimmy Brogan’s work. That was a true testament to how awful the man really was. “Just make sure you guys clean all this up! I don’t want my babies growing up around pollution.”

“Well, if you wanted that, maybe you should have considered raising them in a city that’s not New York,” Jake countered, but he moved to do as he was told.

“Oh, and Jake?” Terry called, making the younger man turn back to face him.

“Yeah, Sarge?”

“Meet me in the Archives room after you’re done. We’ve gotta talk.” There was a grim air of purpose around him, as well as the “no-nonsense” look he was so good at giving.

Jake stiffened, then hung his head. There was no arguing with the guy. “Yeah, okay.” Well, his good mood was officially ruined.

 

. . . . .

 

Rosa Diaz was a good detective. She did her job, and she did it well. Years of training and hands-on experience had honed in her instincts, which meant that her detecting skills weren’t limited to just being in the field. Rosa was a detective 24/7, even if she didn’t mean for it to happen. So it wasn’t long before she realized that something odd was up with Jake.

“Meet me in the Archives room after you’re done. We’ve gotta talk.” That was an odd thing for Terry to say. As Sergeant, he was a pretty straightforward man. If he had something to say to one of his charges, he didn’t use the Archives room. Rosa didn’t miss the look on Jake’s face, either. The one that said all-too-clearly that whatever discussion he was going to be a part of wouldn’t be pleasant.

But, Rosa decided to herself, interfering would do no good. Jake was usually in trouble for something, and if Terry felt it needed to be dealt with privately, then that’s the way it would be. Rosa wouldn’t get in the way of that. God knows she hated others getting into  _ her  _ business. She let it go.

 

. . . . .

 

“You wanted to see me?” Jake asked upon entering the Archives room. He tried to keep his tone lightly curious instead of guilty. Maybe Terry just wanted to talk to him about some normal, work-related stuff. In the basement. Without anyone else around. There was a chance, right?

“Yes, I did. Are you free tonight?”

Jake mentally cancelled the Nicolas Cage movie marathon he had been planning that night. He definitely didn’t want a repeat of the last incident. “Uh, yeah. I am.”

“Good answer. Can we do your place again? It’s easier than my house.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Honestly, it was nice to not have to drive back to his house from Terry’s. The first ordeal had resulted in a rather painful ride home. “What time?”

“How about right after work? I need to run a couple of errands, but I shouldn’t be too long. You can just wait for me at your apartment till then. Maybe take a shower.” Terry gave Jake a meaningful look.

“Okay, that was a little pointed,” Jake muttered. “But fine. Sounds like a plan.”

“Alright, cool. Get back to work, I’ll see you later tonight.”

Jake nodded and left. He hated how businesslike, how easy it had become. Why was he able to talk about this so casually? He sighed as he entered the bullpen, then sat at his desk. He should probably relish sitting down while he was still able to.

Was it just him, or was Rosa looking at him weird?

Jake shrugged it off and started to file one of his closed cases.


	2. Chapter 2

Jake paced around the living room of his apartment. He had already showered and dressed into sweatpants and a tee. After checking the time yet again, he let out a groan. How long was Terry going to take?

He was answered in about thirty seconds as Terry buzzed in. Jake, still nervous, let the enormous man into his apartment. He was holding two grocery bags.

“What’s this?” Jake asked.

Terry set them down on the kitchen counter. “Figured you probably could use this, if your kitchen last time was anything to go by.” He started to place yogurt cups and other perishable items into Jake’s nearly empty fridge.

“Sarge, you really don’t have to-”

“The only thing you have in here is two bottles of ranch!” Terry cried.

“You forgot the jar of pickles,” Jake offered.

“It’s  _ empty _ !” Terry removed the evidence from the fridge and raised his eyebrows.

“Um, no it’s not,” Jake countered. “There’s still pickle juice in it. If you freeze it up into ice trays, it makes really awesome pickle popsicles!”

Terry looked at him with such disgust, Jake almost feared the man might leave. Or throw him over his knee right then and there. Thankfully, however, Terry pointedly threw the jar into the trash and proceeded in pulling out vegetables.

“Agh! Get those out of here!” Jake cried as he watched a bag of carrots enter his fridge.

Terry ignored him until all of the groceries were put away. “You’re going to start taking care of yourself. You need to act like an adult. I’m going to make you a shopping list next week, and I expect you to follow it.”

Jake threw his head back and groaned to prove he was in no mood to act like an adult.

“Anyways,” Terry continued, closing the refrigerator door and standing up straight. “Let’s get started.”

Jake suddenly remembered why Terry was in his house, and he felt the flood of nerves that was becoming rather familiar these days. The Sergeant sat in the middle cushion of Jake’s couch and waited patiently.

“U-um. Okay.” Jake walked over to Terry and pulled down his sweatpants gracelessly. He was tugged over Terry’s lap and immediately the man’s hand was on his bottom.

“You’re not gonna use the… the belt again, are you?” Jake squeaked.

“No, the belt’s for major offenses. Like trying to get out of your punishment. And lying.”

Relieved, Jake’s muscles became considerably less taut. He moved to grab a pillow, then realized that there wasn’t one.

“Uh- Sarge? I don’t have a-”

“Oh, my bad! Go get one, but be quick.” Terry tried to keep his voice stern, but he sounded a lot more like a dad trying to get his kids to school on time. Still, Jake had no desire to test his patience, and he was back in seconds with a pillow clasped in his arms.

“Tell me why this is happening,” Terry ordered.

Jake organized his thoughts for a moment before speaking. “I got drunk, I said terrible things about Holt, and I punched Jimmy Brogan in the face.”

“Not quite,” Terry said. “You’re not in trouble for punching Jimmy Brogan. Terry doesn’t condone violence, but that was an offense I can forgive. He was being a real jerk, and you stood up for what you know is right.”

Well, that was a pleasant surprise.

“But you  _ are  _ in trouble for getting drunk with a reporter. It resulted in you acting entirely unprofessional, and yes, you did say terrible things about Holt. If you had known when to stop drinking, you wouldn’t have ended up in that situation. You need to learn that staying in control is way more important than impressing anyone. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Jake said heavily. He didn’t think he’d have much trouble remembering this particular lesson, since it turned out that he had been trying to impress an absolute asshole.

Terry landed the first swat.

“Ow!” Jake cried before stuffing his face into the pillow.

The swats continued, fast and burning. After half a minute, Terry spoke again.

“I think this situation pretty much speaks for itself, so I’m not gonna say much. Just that I want you to be mature enough to know that alcohol is a slippery slope. It can be really fun if you use it correctly. But if you don’t stay in control, it’ll make you do and say things that you’ll really regret. Okay?”

“Okay! Ow!”

Terry remained silent after that, focusing solely on covering all of Jake’s butt with fast, stinging slaps. Jake squirmed under his rapid-fire technique, his legs kicking up of their own volition. He hated how thorough Terry was, and he hated just how much the man could make a spanking hurt.

As far as spankings went, though, Jake had to admit it wasn’t the worst. After a few minutes, he felt his torso angling forward, signalling the beginning of the end. Swats rained down on Jake’s sit spots, causing him to wriggle and gasp, but it was soon over.

“All done,” Terry said, rubbing away the sting.

“That’s it?” Jake asked, surprised.

“What, do you want more?”

“N-no!” Jake protested, leaping up. Terry laughed.

“I’m gonna fix you some dinner. Put your pants back on.” He walked to the kitchen.

Jake pulled up his sweatpants. He was sore, and his butt was pretty warm, but it was nothing compared to the last session. He definitely didn’t feel like sitting, though, so he lay belly-down on the couch.

“What’s this?” Jake asked, wrinkling his nose at the plate Terry brought him.

“It’s salad!”

“Ew, ew, ew!” Jake set the plate down on the coffee table like it might detonate. There was no way any of that was entering his body.

Terry sat down in the armchair. “That plate’s gonna be clear by the time I leave.”

Jake glared at him, but didn’t dare argue. He tentatively picked up a leaf (what was that, spinach? Eurgh.) and bit at a corner.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate it?”

“Four,” Jake said easily.

“Alright, seems fair. It wasn’t meant to be a harsh spanking, more of a reminder. Anything else you want to talk about?”

“Nope, I didn’t have any problems.”

The after-spanking talk was getting a lot less awkward. Jake kind of hated how routine this was becoming.

“Alright, sounds good. Just finish your salad, and then I’ll be off.”

It took Jake a quarter of an hour to finish the measly plate of greens, and there was much huffing and eye-rolling. But finally, Terry was satisfied and left Jake’s apartment with a simple “See you tomorrow!” and a click of the door. Jake drank a can of soda to wash out the taste of the vegetables.


	3. Chapter 3

Rosa was having a normal morning. She arrived at the precinct to find Santiago with a smug smile. Not at all weird. Hitchcock and Scully came in with what looked like an entire buffet. Completely ordinary. Boyle was heard before he was seen, blathering about a new pizza place. The usual. Holt was silent in his office, and Gina was nowhere to be found. Typical. And Jake was five minutes late, which was completely to be expected. However…

Rosa’s eyes followed him as he walked to his desk. He seemed… quiet, maybe even unobtrusive.  _ That  _ wasn’t normal. He seated himself gingerly at his desk, and Rosa could have sworn there was something like a grimace on his face. Was he hurt?

_ He wasn’t limping,  _ Rosa reminded herself. In fact, Jake seemed to be in perfectly good health. She thought again of Terry’s invitation to Jake yesterday.

But then Jake said something snarky to Santiago, and a small battle of quips was thrown between the two.

Rosa gave herself a mental shake.  _ Nah, he’s perfectly normal.  _ Her detective-wired brain was just overreacting. She was probably bored. She hadn’t had a fresh case in a week, and she was itching for something to chase.

The perfect opportunity was handed to her at the morning briefing. An elderly woman had been murdered in her apartment.

“Miriam Gray was stabbed three times in the chest. There were no defensive wounds. She was found around 5:45 yesterday evening by her granddaughter, Sarah Larson, who was going to have dinner with her. ME put the time of death between 7:00 and 7:30 that morning. We don’t have any leads for a motive yet. Only three tenants in the apartment don’t have alibis.”

“I’ll do it,” Rosa said immediately.

Terry considered. “Alright, that sounds good. Take Peralta as your second.”

Was it just Rosa, or did Jake looked surprised? She shook herself again. Seriously, her imagination was getting too active.

 

. . . . .

 

“We’ll start by talking to the granddaughter, see if she can think of a reason why someone

would want to kill Miriam,” Rosa decided. She pulled up Sarah Larson’s address. “You can go over the rest of the file while we’re driving there.”

“Sounds good,” Jake said, his nose already buried in the file. As much of a goof-off as Jake was, he really cared about his work. And even though he was a shitty number two at the best of times, years of working with Jake made Rosa sure he was still an invaluable team member.

In the car, Jake filled Rosa in on the facts Terry hadn’t covered- though in a slightly less professional manner.

“Little old Miriam got around. She’s been married twice, and was apparently involved in a case almost a decade ago… wow. Alfred Gray was charged with assault and battery of one Peter Clarke, for sleeping with his wife. Well, ex-wife now. She was 72 then! How do old people still  _ move,  _ much less boink?”

Rosa didn’t have a response.

“Okay, so Sarah Gray is the daughter of Miriam’s only child, Ryan Gray. Ryan is currently 52, and Sarah is 25. She’s married to Henry Larson and has two kids.” Jake flipped a couple of pages. “It says here that she was visiting Miriam for dinner, but also to check up on her. Sarah said she would bring Miriam groceries-” Jake coughed. “-and help clean up the apartment sometimes.”

Rosa pulled up to the address, which was a small house with a tidy garden and a minivan in the driveway.

Jake instinctively went to knock on the door, but Rosa held him back.

“That’s my job,” she said before rapping smartly. “NYPD, open up.”

“Dammit, I love saying that,” Jake grumbled. He straightened up immediately, however, when the door was opened.

Sarah Gray was a rather tired looking woman. She was bouncing a baby on her hip and had dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, but several strands had fallen out.

“Come on in,” she said wearily. “I’ve already been questioned, though.”

Rosa seated herself on a worn couch. Jake, however, jumped back up the moment his butt touched the cushion. 

_ Okay, that was definitely weird- oh, never mind. _

Jake set a baby rattle on the coffee table, then checked the cushion thoroughly for anymore baby toys before sitting down again.

“We only have a few more questions,” Rosa assured Sarah, who sat in an armchair and gently rocked the fussy baby. Sarah nodded her understanding, and Rosa continued. “Do you happen to know anyone who might have a grudge against Miriam? Any reason why somebody would want to kill her?”

Sarah shook her head. “She was a really sweet old lady. She never did anything mean or hateful. Nothing to cause someone to-to…” Sarah trailed off.

“Okay, thank you,” Rosa said quickly, before the woman started crying or something. “What about arguments? Stupid fights with the neighbors, stuff like that.”

“No. She got along really well with everyone. She loved to sew, and she would make quilts for her apartment neighbors.”

“Yeah, but she couldn’t have been  _ perfect, _ ” Jake argued, sounding a bit impatient. “C’mon, can’t you think of anything?”

“Jake,” Rosa warned him quietly.

“No, I really can’t! She was a nice, sweet grandma who did normal grandma things. She would bake cookies, she even used to own cats! She loved cats.”

“But-” Jake began, but Rosa cut him off swiftly.

“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Larson. We’ll do everything we can to catch the person who did this.”

Sarah nodded before showing them out of the house.

“If you would’ve just let me ask some more questions-”

“No, Jake. It was obvious she didn’t think anything bad of her grandma. We wouldn’t have gotten anymore help from her. Now, I’d appreciate it if you could let me run  _ my _ case.”

Jake huffed and leaned against the window, but didn’t argue.

 

. . . . .

 

The crime scene was, thankfully, slightly more helpful than Sarah Larson.

“These wounds are sloppy. Not the stabs of someone who’s killed before,” Rosa said as she looked through crime scene photos. Jake examined the room, walking around and getting a feel for the space.

“The autopsy report said the perp is right-handed. And whoever did it is either the same height or taller than the victim.”

“Miriam was real short,” Rosa said. “5 foot 2.”

“So we’re looking for someone 5’2” or taller who’s right-handed and has never killed someone? Wow, that really narrows it down.”

“The wounds are unfocused. They aren’t clean, like someone who planned on murdering. It looks like they’re more out of anger than a desire to kill.”

Jake thought. “What, did another old lady in the apartment get jealous that Miriam’s quilting was better than hers?”

Rosa gave him a look. “There were prints found at the scene, but there was no match in any of the databases. So nobody with a criminal record. No murder weapon to be found, and no DNA.”

Jake turned to one of the officers present at the crime scene. “Has there been any new evidence collected?”

“Uh, actually, yeah. Forensics report came in with some trace evidence. It’s not much, but here you go.”

Jake took the file, and Rosa beckoned for him to bring it over.

“Yellow fibers from a cotton-blend fabric?” Jake scoffed at the first piece of evidence. “Sarah told us she used to sew  _ quilts. _ There’s got to be a million different fabrics here.”

Rosa hummed her agreement before looking at the next item.

“It’s potting soil. Quick, see if there are any plants in here,” she ordered.

Jake searched, but found nothing but fake plants in fake soil. “What’s the point?” he asked, flicking a plastic succulent. “I mean, aren’t plants supposed to be a way for people to feel good about themselves for keeping things alive? If it’s not alive to begin with, it doesn’t really matter.”

“It was found on Miriam’s sweater. It could’ve been from the perp.”

“Okay, that could be helpful. What else is there?”

“Nothing. That’s it.” Rosa snapped the file shut. “I think it’s time to start interviewing suspects.”

“Please, please,  _ please  _ can I knock this time?” Jake begged.

“You get  _ one  _ door. I get the rest. It’s my case.”

Jake sulked.

“Do you ever let  _ Boyle _ knock on the door during  _ your  _ cases?” Rosa asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, uh… there was this one time that-”

“Come on,” Rosa interrupted, leaving the apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hhhhhhh sorry guys I started college, so I haven't had time to work on this! But it's winter break now so I plan on finishing this story soon. Thank you guys so much for continuing to read my series, it really means a lot to me! Constructive criticism and suggestions are always welcome! :D

J

Jake knew right away that the first suspect was a dead-end. A nervous bachelor, about 25, let them in. He was the hipster type, and Jake could smell the weed the moment he crossed the threshold, but instinct told him that was the only crime going on here. Rosa asked him a few questions, but it wasn’t long before she jerked her head for Jake to follow her out.

“Thank you for your time,” she said, and they left.

“ _ Please _ can I knock on this door?” Jake begged.

“You can knock on the next door.”

“But what if this one’s the killer?”

“Then you don’t get to knock on any doors for this case.”

Jake grumbled while Rosa knocked.

An elderly man opened the door. In less than a minute, Jake and Rosa were seated on the couch. The man sat in an old armchair, rocking peacefully, while his wife hovered nearby.

Jake didn’t hear Rosa’s first question; he was too busy scanning the apartment. A large potted plant stood in the corner. There was a quilt carefully arranged over the back of the old man’s chair. And in the kitchen, Jake caught sight of the knife block. He leapt up halfway through the old man’s answer and pointed at the wife.

“Ma’am, you’re under arrest for the murder of Miriam Gray.”

 

. . . . .

 

Jake paced, agitated, in Holt’s office. Rosa was standing with her feet spread wide and her hands clenched into murderous fists at her sides. Her jaw looked as though her teeth had been cemented shut.

Holt surveyed the both of them, his face impassive as ever.

“It was  _ so obvious!”  _ Jake cried.

“It. Was.  _ My.  _ Case,” Rosa ground out. She had said the same thing multiple times over the past hour.

“And I helped you solve it faster than you would have alone!”

“It was still my arrest to make!” Rosa thundered.

“Enough.” Holt’s voice was quiet, measured, but it was still enough to shut Rosa up. Jake, however, was not finished.

“Captain, all of the signs were there. The old guy had a quilt from Miriam on his rocking chair, there was a potted plant,  _ a knife was missing from the knife block-” _

“People use knives for things other than murder, Jake!” Rosa interrupted, clearly having forgotten Holt’s command.

“She was mad because she found out Miriam was sleeping with her husband, so-”

“The details of the case do not matter.” Holt’s voice was louder, more firm this time. Jake finally stopped pacing, but he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “You could have easily talked to Detective Diaz about the situation instead of diving in head first. What you did was reckless and disrespectful.”

“But I was  _ right!”  _ Jake hated himself for how whiny it sounded.

“It does not matter if you were right, the arrest was still not yours to make.” Holt was enunciating his words even more than usual, a habit which betrayed just how angry he was.

Gina swung the door open without knocking, effectively halting the conversation.

“Sorry to interrupt you yelling at Jake, but Terry wanted to get in on the action, too.”

“You may come in.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Terry, entering. Gina shut the door.

Jake felt his adam’s apple bob uncomfortably in his throat. Shit, he hadn’t even thought about  _ this.  _ He was in deep enough trouble as it was!

“I heard about what happened,” Terry said. “And I assume Detective Peralta is in a lot of trouble?” He raised his eyebrows at Holt. He hadn’t even so much as glanced in Jake’s direction.

“You assume correctly. You sound as if you have something in mind.”

Terry paused before speaking. “Yes, sir. I do. I think it would be best if Jake spent a little while as a second only, seeing as he still has trouble performing the duties of one.”

“You mean stop giving him his own cases?” Holt cocked his head to the side, considering.

“Yes, sir. Until he learns how to be more respectful to his fellow officers.”

“I’m happy to see you taking charge of your squad. I think that would be an excellent idea. How would you feel about a month, Sargeant?”

“A month sounds good to me, sir.”

“Good, that’s settled then.” Holt nodded once, signalling their dismissal.

 

. . . . .

 

Rosa desperately needed to punch something. She admired Jake’s detective work, she really did, and their friendship was secretly important to her. But he was an insufferable, arrogant bastard, and she knew that if she saw his stupid face, she was going to knock his teeth in. So she decided to remove herself from the bullpen.

The basement was the most obvious place of refuge. There were plenty of old, useless things down there that could be shattered into a million pieces without anybody missing them. She stomped around, clenching and unclenching her jaw and flexing her fingers as she searched for things to destroy.

Just as she was considering slamming her fist into the brick wall, Rosa paused. She heard voices.

“... it’s not fair!”

“What’s not fair is how you treated Rosa today!”

“But I was  _ right!” _

“It hasn’t even been 24 hours, Jake! Are you  _ trying  _ to piss me off? Because it sure as hell is working!”

There was no mistaking Terry and Jake’s voices drifting from the Archives room. Rosa knew she shouldn’t listen, but she was still livid at Jake, and hearing him get chewed out felt amazing.

_ “Why is nobody on my side in this?” _ Jake cried. He sounded genuinely angry, something that didn’t happen often.

“I think you need some time to cool down. We’ll discuss this tonight, after work. Your place.”

Rosa blinked, confused.  _ What’s that supposed to mean? _

“I don’t need time to cool down! I solved a case! That’s my _job_!”

“Jake, I seriously need you to calm down now.”

Jake let out a cry of frustration, and Rosa heard something that sounded an awful lot like a box of files tumbling to the floor.

There was a heavy pause. And then Terry spoke again, his voice deadly.

“We’re still at work, Jake. This isn’t the time or place for you to throw a temper tantrum. Clean that mess up. After work, we’re going straight to your apartment, and I am going to spank the  _ hell  _ out of you. Do you understand?”

Jake’s voice sounded considerably more demure already. “Yes, sir.”

Rosa’s brain battled between shock and utter confusion. As her mind raced, trying to come up with a logical explanation, she missed the sound of footsteps.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! So I received some super helpful criticisms and I decided to go back and change stuff! The first story of this series now has an added chapter where Terry explains the situation to Sharon (cuz like. He's a good husband and yeah it's probably best to tell your partner about something like this lol), and I also tweaked some other details in the last story as well as the previous chapter of this story. Anyways, I hope you guys like it, and thanks so much for reading!

Jake scrambled to clean up the files, flush with anger and dread and sheer humiliation. Sarge was right; he  _ had  _ been throwing a temper tantrum. Still, he was seething about the whole damn situation. Why didn’t anyone care about his side of the story? He had thought Terry would at least listen to him!

Over the shuffling of papers and the dull roar in his ears, Jake still made out the rumble of Terry’s voice.

“What are you doing here?”

Jake sprang up, abandoning his half-finished job. His heart rate increased tenfold. Who else could possibly be down here? Cautiously, he peeked out of the doorway.

Rosa was standing there, looking absolutely mortified.

“I- I-” The fearsome woman was  _ never  _ at a loss for words. Which could mean only one thing…

“What all did you hear?”

Rosa seemed to regain her composure. She stood up straight and met Terry’s gaze, something Jake never had the balls to do.

“I heard enough. I’m sure Captain Holt would love an explanation for this.”

“No!” Jake jumped out from the Archives room. There was no way in hell that the Captain was  _ ever  _ going to find out about this. Jake would die from embarrassment instantly.

Rosa turned to Jake, no longer looking murderous. Instead she looked confused, maybe even concerned. “What do you mean? Jake, Sarge is- that’s not allowed. If he’s using his position to hurt you-”

It was Jake’s turn to be confused. “What? No. That’s not-”

“Hang on. I think we all need to sit down and talk about this.” Terry was back in Sergeant mode. Jake forgot to be mad at him and instead followed him like a lost puppy. If anyone could talk their way out of this, Terry could.

A minute later, they were all seated around the cluttered desk of the Archives room. Rosa had her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised, clearly demanding a good explanation. Jake shifted in his seat, embarrassed to his very core.

“Rosa, I understand that what you heard sounded like I was abusing my power. But actually, this is an…  _ arrangement  _ that Jake and I worked out a while ago. It’s unconventional, but it’s consensual.”

“You’re saying that you’re consensually hurting- _spanking_ \- Jake?” Her face was twisted into a mixture of disgust, disbelief, and sick amusement that only Rosa could create.

“Sort of…” Jake mumbled.

Rosa blinked, surprised. “And does Sharon know about this?” she asked after a pause.

Terry bristled. “Yes, as a matter of fact, she does. And it’s not sexual! This is about providing Jake with discipline and structure. It’s an odd method, yes, but none of the punishments available at the precinct seem to work. And this does. I offered to do this so that Jake could become a better detective.”

Rosa let this sink in for a moment. “Jake. Are you  _ actually  _ agreeing to this?”

“Yes!” He hated to admit it, but he also needed Rosa to know that Terry wasn’t doing anything wrong. “I know it’s weird, but it helps! Please, Rosa, just don’t go telling everyone about this.” Jake offered her the pleading face she could never turn down.

Rosa didn’t speak for a bit, thinking hard. “So you’re really spanking him?” Terry nodded sheepishly. She shook her head slowly. “This is fucked up.”

Jake felt his face flush. “Hey, don’t judge! It works, okay? It’s not like Terry holds it over me or anything. It’s not interfering with work- it’s helping!”

“And I never do it while we’re at the Precinct- well. I definitely wanted to a couple of minutes ago,” Terry laughed. “Sorry, but you were being a little shit.”

Jake ducked his head. “I kinda was,” he admitted.  _ Still,  _ he added bitterly to himself,  _ I had a pretty damn good reason to. _

“Rosa.” Terry turned back to her. “I know we’re not technically allowed to be doing this. But I truly think it’s helping Jake, and as Sergeant I want to help everyone in the Precinct be the best they can be. I would really appreciate it if you helped us keep this…”

“A secret?”

“Well- yes.” Terry looked at her with pleading eyes.

“If this is what you need, Jake, then yeah. I can keep a secret. Besides,” Rosa’s eyes glinted “you definitely deserve a good spanking after today.”

Jake bit his lip and glared at her, but he knew his face was beet red. Dammit, had he no pride left?

Rosa stood up and brushed at her thighs. “Sorry for overhearing your… well. That. And Jake?” She looked over her shoulder as she made to leave.

“What?”

“Next time you screw up, just know I’m going straight to Sarge.”

Jake and Terry sat, listening, until the sound of Rosa’s boots faded away. Then Terry turned to his victim.

“That went better than I expected.” Jake nodded his sullen agreement. “Now clean up that mess and go back upstairs.” He stood up and left Jake alone with his thoughts.

 

. . . . .

 

When Jake made it back up to the bullpen, his gaze immediately shifted over to Rosa’s desk. She looked back and gave him a smug smile.

Looking back, Jake realized that it was futile from the very beginning. No matter how secretive Terry promised he would be about the matter, you just couldn’t hide things from a precinct of detectives. But why did it have to be  _ her? _

Detective Rosa Diaz, stone cold bitch, the most terrifying and mysterious person on the face of the planet, knew that Jake Peralta spent some of his evenings getting his butt roasted over Terry’s knee. It was absolutely humiliating, to say the least. Jake might even call it soul-crushing. His will to live was slipping through his fingertips.

And what’s more, his butt had been invited to a mandatory appointment that very night- an appointment that would end in agony and, based on experience, tears. It was shaping up to be one of the worst days of Jake’s life.

As his thoughts swirled at high-speed, Jake’s earlier anger began to simmer again.

“It’s not fair,” he said through gritted teeth, ignoring whatever dumb comment Santiago had made.  _ It’s not fair. _

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Jake watched the clock with growing dread. There were only fifteen minutes left before he had to leave. Fifteen minutes.

He twisted around in his chair to see that Terry was also looking at the clock. He stiffened, as if he felt Jake’s gaze on him, then turned to make eye contact. Jake flinched and shifted back to face his desk. Amy was staring at him with that expression that said she was going to start teasing him.

“Are you excited to leave work?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in anticipation of whatever quip Jake would come up with.

“Not everyone likes to kiss Holt’s ass as much as you do,” Jake snapped. There was actual venom in his voice, completely different from the customary mocking (some might say  _ flirtatious _ ) tone.

Amy pulled back, hurt written all over her face.

_ Peralta’s penchant for fucking up strikes again,  _ Jake thought sourly, averting his eyes in shame. After a stunned pause, Amy slammed her file shut. He could hear the telltale squeak of Amy’s bottom desk drawer- the one where Jake knew she hid her cigarettes and lighter. As if she thought nobody knew she smoked. She didn’t even spare him a backward glance as she let the courtyard door swing shut behind her.

Jake rubbed at the back of his neck- he could feel it prickling where Terry’s gaze bored into him.

After tortured minutes of pretending to read through a file, Jake finally,  _ finally  _ heard the rustling of jackets that signalled it was time to go home. Amy was still in the courtyard. But Jake had bigger things to worry about- namely, his own ass. He shot out of his chair and took the stairs down, so he could avoid riding in the elevator with everyone else.

Jake nearly sprinted to the garage. He slammed his car door shut and hunched over in the driver’s seat, taking shaky breaths to collect himself. He was vaguely aware of his phone vibrating, but he ignored it. For a second, he wished Gina was there; she always knew how to calm him down when he was like this. Then he tossed the thought away. This was a problem he had to deal with on his own.

It took Jake about five minutes to clear his head, and anxiety gave way to resolve. He set his jaw and twisted the keys into the ignition, determined. He drove out of the parking garage and into the streets of Brooklyn. The fingers of his left hand drummed a calming beat on the steering wheel. His right hand set the blinker to turn in the opposite direction of his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know that this is short. Like, super short. But I did it for the suspppense!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jake has pretty obvious anxiety in the actual show, and as I was writing this I realized it would be pretty in character for him to struggle with that in this particular situation. I put it in the tags, but just so you're aware, there will be a panic attack in this chapter, as well as leading into next chapter, so proceed carefully!
> 
> (I have anxiety myself so like. This is an accurate portrayal, at least from my point of view. But I did modify it to fit Jake's character more, since everyone with anxiety experiences it differently. Cuz that's how brains work.)
> 
> ((Also please don't hate me for putting another cliffhanger it just felt like the most natural place))

It wasn’t until Jake pulled up at Sal’s Pizza that he remembered it had burned down.

His phone started vibrating again, and he looked at the Caller ID.

“Gina,” Jake breathed, relief washing over him. She was the only person he felt safe talking to right now. However, his relief was soon tempered with suspicion at the tone of Gina’s voice.

“Hey Jakey, sorry to do this to you, but… Well, Terry called and said you weren’t picking up your phone, so he asked me to-”

Jake had never hung up so fast. He had been looking for comfort, for  _ understanding _ , and suddenly even Gina had turned against him! Seconds later, his phone started buzzing again. Jake threw it into the back seat with a cry of frustration.

Where was he supposed to go? Terry was surely waiting outside his apartment already, Sal’s was gone, and Gina’s apartment was inhabited a traitor. 

“Cool, cool cool cool cool, cool, cool…” Jake muttered. He was starting to feel trapped.

Logically, he knew he could just safeword out of this. Terry wouldn’t punish him if Jake told him he absolutely wouldn’t go through with it. But that wasn’t the issue. Jake was warring with two different halves of himself. On the one hand, he was absolutely pissed about getting in trouble, especially when he felt like he hadn’t done anything wrong. But on the other hand, Jake had that god-awful desperation to please anyone and everyone he came into contact with, and he couldn’t stand disappointing Terry.

As Jake caught his breath back, he remembered his phone. He reached back to grab it and found ten missed calls from Terry, and three from Gina. He sighed, steeling himself, before calling the former. The recipient picked up almost instantly.

“Where. Are. You.” Terry’s voice was a dangerous growl.

“Sal’s Pizza,” Jake managed after a few moments. His voice cracked with fear.

“Do not move. Do you understand?”

“But-”

_ “Do you understand?” _

Jake let in a quavering breath. “Yes.”

The line went dead.

It seemed like ages before Terry’s minivan crawled into Sal’s parking lot. A car door slammed, and Jake watched Terry stomp out. He stopped outside the driver’s door and wrenched it open.

“Get into the passenger seat,” Terry said, jerking a thumb to the minivan.

Jake scrambled to obey, not even bothering to ask questions. He pulled his keys out and pocketed them, along with his phone, before grabbing his bag and hurrying into Terry’s car.

The ride was dead silent. Jake knew he was an idiot, but he at least had the sense to keep his mouth shut. After Terry had parked, he stayed in the car and turned to Jake.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. We are going to go up to your apartment. You will change into a t-shirt and sweatpants. Then, you’re gonna sit down on your bed and wait for me. Make sure you take advantage of sitting while you still can.” There was a dangerous glint in Terry’s eyes. Jake shrank away from him. “Do you understand?”

Jake tried to speak, but no words came out. He tried again, but his voice was hardly more than a squeak. “Yes.”

“Let’s go.”

Jake could swear that the world was moving in slow motion around him and yet, before he knew it, he was seated on his bed as ordered, waiting for his upcoming doom.

 

. . . . .

 

Terry leaned against the counter of Jake’s kitchenette. To say he was livid would be an understatement. Hadn’t he  _ just  _ gone over avoiding punishment a couple of weeks ago? He mentally tallied up Jake’s infractions in his head, and came to the conclusion that the detective was royally screwed.

Terry calmed himself down and re-analyzed the situation. He didn’t want to go in pissed and end up taking out his anger on Jake; that could very well scar the kid for life.

But Jake was in deep shit. His behavior had been terrible. He had broken rule after rule after rule, and he still didn’t want to accept his punishment. Terry would have to reason with him before the punishment even began. It was just as important for Jake to be in the right headspace for this as it was for Terry.

Finally, Terry knew it was time. He only hesitated a moment before knocking on Jake’s door.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Sure,” came the soft reply. The tone, however, was still on edge.

Jake was sitting on his bed, like instructed. His shoulders were hunched and his hands were folded in front of him. One leg bounced nonstop.

Terry sat down on the bed next to Jake.

“Jake,” he began, soft but firm. “Why am I going to punish you?”

Jake narrowed his eyes. “I thought it was your job to tell me that.” He was sullen, but there was no real bite behind his words. Still, Terry was having none of it.

“Right now it’s your job. So tell me. Why am I going to punish you?”

Jake shrugged his shoulders. Terry couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment, guilt, or anger behind the movement. Maybe a combination of all three. He let out a soft sigh; based on Jake’s earlier behavior, he had been prepared for a reaction of this sort.

“Alright. Since you obviously need some time to think about it, go stand in the corner. Five minutes.”

Jake’s head snapped up at that. “Wha- Sarge. No. No!”

Terry raised his brows, but Jake did not budge.

“I’m not going to do that!”

Terry stood up, grabbed Jake by the wrist, and tugged him off the bed. He quickly landed five sharp smacks to Jake’s backside. “Go,” he ordered.

Jake stared at him with pure terror in his eyes before scurrying to obey. Still, Terry could feel the anger coming off of him in waves from across the room.

Terry kept an eye on the alarm clock on the bedside table. After a minute, Jake was shifting from foot to foot. After two minutes, it was obvious he was having a difficult time. Terry wondered if the detective was used to staying still for more than thirty seconds at a time. He decided to allow a little bit of movement, but once Jake started drumming his fingers against his leg, he drew the line.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Jake snapped his fingers into a fist, but obeyed the order.

Once the five minutes were up, Terry called Jake back.

“Alright,” he said, once Jake was seated again on the bed. “Tell my why I’m going to punish you.”

Jake took a breath before speaking. Before he even spoke, Terry could see the defiance glittering in his eyes.

“Because I solved a case?” he tried.

It was all Terry could do not to break his own teeth, he clenched his jaw so hard. He pulled Jake over his lap and landed a hard swat. Jake stiffened, but didn’t make a sound.

“Alright, I guess  _ I’ll _ tell you why I’m going to punish you,” Terry said, bringing his hand down again. His hand was so big compared to Jake that he could almost cover his whole butt, and he had to be careful not to hit too hard. It didn’t take much strength to have a real impact on Jake. He didn’t exactly have the highest pain tolerance. “You’re getting a spanking because you disrespected Diaz on her case, you threw a tantrum today in the basement, you were rude and hurtful to Santiago, and you tried to avoid punishment!  _ Again!”  _ Terry interspersed this speech with three more slaps. He could feel one of Jake’s hands clawing desperately to his leg for support, and he was kicking his legs up slightly in response to each hit. “It hasn’t been that long since you last tried to run away, has it? I didn’t think I’d have to get the belt out again so soon.”

He landed another swat, and felt Jake become as immovable as a statue.

_ “Now  _ does your punishment make a little more sense?” Terry asked.

Jake did not respond, and Terry landed an impatient swat.

“Jake? I’m looking for an answer here.”

Still, Jake said nothing. Terry drew back to spank him again, but then he noticed how quickly Jake’s ribs were moving against his lap. He was breathing at a nearly impossible rate. His grip on Terry’s calf was like iron.

“Jake?” Terry asked, suddenly feeling concerned. “Jake, what’s going on?”

After yet another second without a response, Terry pried the smaller man off his lap and turned his shoulders to face him. Jake’s chest was heaving with every rapid breath and his eyes were wild with absolute panic.

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness thank you guys so much for sticking with me! I know I'm the least consistent person at uploading chapters in the history of EVER but I swear I didn't forget you!

After a brief moment of indecision, Terry switched into Mother Hen mode. Jake was at least half his size, so it was easy to move him across the bed and prop him up against the headboard.

“Jake, it’s okay,” Terry said, rubbing small circles on Jake’s back. He had pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin there. His arms were rigid around his legs, and he was still shaking. “What’s going on?”

Jake didn’t respond at first. He was breathing heavily, as if he couldn’t get any air, and he began to shrink away from Terry’s touch. Terry drew his hand back, reluctantly. What was he supposed to do?

Finally, Jake managed to gasp something out.

“Gina,” he said.

Almost immediately, Gina was on the line. It was kind of scary, how quickly she picked up.

“What’s up, Sarge? Have you finally come to your senses and realized that I’m clearly a better choice than Sharon-”

“It’s Jake,” Terry interrupted.

“Give the phone to him.” Her entire demeanor changed in a second.

Jake accepted the phone without question. Terry couldn’t hear what was being said- only Jake’s responses indicated that Gina was calming him down. He responded with a quiet “yes” or “no” here and there, but mostly he just listened, his breath slowing down gradually.

After a few minutes, Jake finished with a “Yeah, Gina, I’m good. Thank you.” Then he hung up and returned the phone to Terry.

“M’sorry,” Jake mumbled into his folded arms.

“Are you okay?”

Jake nodded.

“Jake… what the hell happened?” Terry’s voice was gentle and concerned, but he still needed to know what had set him off.

“I- I just… that happens sometimes. It’s a- well, Gina calls it an anxiety thing. I dunno, she’s helped me with it since we were kids.”

Terry nodded, trying to understand. He didn’t know much about this kind of thing, but whatever it was, it clearly had an impact on Jake. He chose his next words carefully.

“And do you wanna talk about why it happened this time?” he prompted. Terry could hear Jake begin to breathe more quickly again. “Hey, hey it’s okay, calm down,” he soothed. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

Terry felt helpless. He was way out of his depth here, and he hated that  _ he  _ had been the cause of this situation.

“What do you need right now?” he asked finally.

Jake took a moment to think consider. “Showers usually help. And then, after that, can we… talk about what happened?” He sounded almost sheepish, like he felt embarrassed for asking.

“Of course, Jake. Whatever you need. Do you want me to make you some food while you shower?”

“I’d like that.”

Terry searched through the cupboards and found a box of macaroni and cheese from when he had bought Jake groceries. It was the best kind of comfort food he knew- besides yogurt, of course.

Before long, he had a large bowl set out on the coffee table, along with a fork and napkin. He even poured some grape soda into a glass. It wasn’t the healthiest meal, but it was what Jake needed. Then he sat in the armchair next to the couch and waited.

Jake took a long shower, about half an hour, but he looked much calmer when he walked out of his room wearing his sweatpants and t-shirt. His hair was still wet and stuck out at odd angles.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely the moment his eyes landed on the food.

“No problem.”

Terry figured it would be best to let Jake start talking in his own time. After a few bites of macaroni and a drink of soda, Jake began the conversation.

“I’m sorry.”

Terry shot Jake a look that bordered on upset, but was mostly concern. “Don’t be,” he said firmly. “This was not under your control.”

Jake looked down at his food glumly.

“Are you comfortable talking about why it happened?”

Jake took a deep breath. “I had forgotten… about the belt.”

That had not been the reply Terry had been expecting. “Are you really that scared of it?” He mentally berated himself the moment the words came out of his mouth. He didn’t want to sound accusing.

Jake just nodded feebly.

“I’m sorry, Jake, I didn’t know. But that’s what the safeword is for, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I guess I just… hadn’t expected to actually feel that way. I figured, since I got through it last time, I could handle it again. But then you brought it up and all I could think about was how  _ bad  _ it was, not how I was okay afterwards. It just hit me, and I froze, and… I know it’s stupid.”

“No, Jake. It’s not stupid. I should have realized the belt might be too much for you-”

“But I  _ told  _ you it was fine last time!”

Terry sighed, then thought for a long moment. “Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore.”

Jake’s head snapped up. “What? No, Sarge-!”

“If you don’t feel comfortable using your safeword, you could get seriously hurt,” Terry reasoned. “We’re both really lucky I was able to realize something was wrong this time!”

“I’ll do better, I promise!” Jake looked at him with pleading eyes, his macaroni completely forgotten.

“This isn’t your fault, Jake. You didn’t do something bad. I just can’t risk your health- mental or physical- to something like this.”

Jake took a second to collect his own thoughts. “What if… we figured out a system? A better system. This is completely new for both of us, right? There are bound to be times we screw up. Something bad happened, but we made our way through it. That just makes it all the more likely we’ll do better next time.”

Terry had to admire Jake’s secret wisdom. He considered his proposition. “That’s fair,” he conceded. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Well… don’t judge me, okay? But one time, I was with this girl, and… well, she called it the Stoplight System. Green for okay, yellow for pause, and red for stop.”

His interest piqued, Terry nodded for Jake to go on.

“Either partner can use any of those colors during… well. Y’know. And sometimes, she would stop and ask me what my color was, just to make sure I wasn’t holding anything back. If I told her green, we were good to go. If I told her red or yellow, or if I didn’t respond, then we’d stop.”

Terry had to marvel at the complexity of the design. “That… could actually work.”

Jake’s face practically glowed.

_ What, is he  _ eager  _ to get his ass whooped?  _ Terry thought to himself, amused. No, he could tell that Jake hated every second of his spankings, but the catharsis was clearly something he still craved.

Jake began to eat his dinner again. They sat in silence until he cleared his bowl, then downed the rest of the soda in one gulp.

“Alright,” he said with a grimace, slamming the glass on the table. “I’m ready.”

“For what?”

“For… for you to- y’know. Finish.”

Terry blinked in surprise. “Oh, no. Definitely not.”

“Wait, what?”

“After what happened? You’re in no shape to go through this tonight.”

Jake looked affronted. “But you were getting through to me! I mean, before that other thing happened. I get it. I was a huge asshole today. Seriously, I fucked up big this time. And-”

Terry held up a hand, effectively cutting Jake off. “Not tonight. What’s today? Thursday?”

Jake nodded.

“Alright. How does Saturday sound? I don’t like spending too much time away from Sharon and the girls, but there’s this ballet concert she’s taking them to go see, and Terry does  _ not  _ like watching ballet unless it’s his own children onstage.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take away your time with family. I know how much they all mean to you.” Jake looked as though he hadn’t even considered Terry’s family up to this point.

“I’m sure. Sharon already knew I wasn’t going, she only reserved three tickets.”

Jake let out a shaky laugh. “Okay, fair enough. And thank you. For putting up with me.”

“Jake, you’re a good person. You do stupid things sometimes, but we all do. I don’t know why this works so well for you, but it does, and I’m glad to be able to provide it for you.” Terry stood up and clasped Jake’s shoulder before getting ready to head out the door. “Get some rest, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jake nodded. “Night, Terry.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

  
  



End file.
